"And we had to take her from the temple apartments!" Mixtal wailed. "It's not like Nexal, where Qotal is a silent, forgotten god! Oh, no, not here! They worship the Plumed Father here in Payit! And they will not overlook a transgression such as this!" The priest whirled anxiously, then continued.

"Caxal will not protect us. Even he, ruler of all the Payit, fears to challenge the power of Kachin's temple!" Indeed, Caxal, Revered Counselor of the city of Ulatos, never interfered in the workings of the temples. The Jaguar Knights, headed by Gultec, formed the largest and most influential group in the city, and their might was all that kept the temples of Zaltec from banishment.

"What would you have us do?" Gultec sprang to his feet in one fluid motion, towering over the trembling cleric. "Send her back? Ignore the ones who are your masters… and mine?"

"How many days?" The cleric looked at the stars once again, groaning.

"One Tenday, as I told you! We hide the girl till then – the night of the new moon. Your knife will do the rest." The Jaguar Knight took a silent step away from the cleric, his spotted cloak blending into the darkness.

"I just don't like it!" the cleric hissed behind him, but Gultec had already vanished.

Seventh day following landfall, aboard the Falcon.

Each day brings new islands, more information, greater boundaries to these undiscovered realms. Darien speaks to these natives, and always we learn of still greater lands to the west.

I begin to suspect we have come not to Shou Lung, nor even its peripheries. Instead, we have discovered new lands, entirely unknown to East or West – lands claimed in the name of the Golden Legion!

And they are lands of richness! Our casks brim with fresh water, our holds bulge with salted game and many fruits and vegetables. Chief among these is a grain the natives call mayz, which seems to grow in great abundance.

But more than food and water, these are lands of gold. We have stopped at four islands, and each time were met by bands of native humans. Each gave us presents of food and gold, and we saw that the farther we traveled west, the greater the abundance of gold.

The villages of these island peoples are poor, but all of them tell us, through Darien, of great lands to the west, a "world that climbs into the sky." That can only mean mountains, and a mainland.

And the source of the gold.

Halloran stood at the base of the waterfall, letting the spray cool him. He faced away from the deep lagoon where the fleet had at last gained a sheltered anchorage, looking up at the staircase progression of cataracts emerging from inland heights. Impenetrable tropical plant life surrounded the stream before him, but a stretch of lush grasses backed the beach to either side.

"Nice scenery. Still, just an island," muttered Daggrande, joining Hal at the sandy streambank. The dwarf pulled his dagger from its sheath and clucked in alarm, flicking several grains of sand from the blade. "I won't be happy till we set foot on the mainland!"

"You won't ever be happy. Still, how do you know it's just an island? The scouting ships have only been out for one day."

"I can feel it in these old feet of mine."

The dwarves, in their ancient, deliberate manner, had a way of understanding things about the earth that superseded the senses of humans. Halloran believed the veteran campaigner.

They looked up the beach to the center of its arc around the cove, where Cordell, Darien, and the Bishou engaged in negotiations with a contingent of the local natives.

Here, for the first time, the delegation had included women. Now a dozen maidens stood quietly to the side as their chieftains spoke to the visitors.

"Here comes the Bishou's daughter," humphed the dwarf. "Be careful. I think she's got her eye on you."

Halloran flushed. "Don't be ridiculous!" But he wondered, hoping that Daggrande could be right. Though he had only spoken to her briefly at their various landings, she always appeared happy to see him.

Daggrande clumped away to save himself the embarrassment of speaking to the woman.

"Hello!" Martine greeted Hal cheerfully, casting an amused glance after the departing dwarf. "Perhaps we can go for that walk now."

"Of course." Halloran offered his arm, delighting in the touch of her hand. He picked his way across the shallow stream, helping her maintain her balance, though she seemed in no danger of falling.

"It's so beautiful!" She gestured at the waterfall and the lush highlands beyond. "Each shore seems more wonderful than the last!"

"I wonder at the people," mused Hal. "Such barbarians!"

"Oh, Papa thinks they're wonderful. They listen to everything he tells them about Helm. Of course, they've never heard of him before. They don't seem to know about any gods, these people, but the Bishou thinks he's converting them all!"

"Still, don't you wonder if there's more to them than what we've seen?"

She laughed again, and again he loved the sound. "Oh, I don't know. I don't really think about it. It's fun to see each new place. Don't be so serious!"

"All right." He nodded, wanting to please her.

They walked for a while down the beach, past groups of sailors and soldiers from the legion relaxing on the shore. All the men had gotten to debark at least once thus far, and more than half of them were ashore now.

Halloran looked at the forest that marked the boundary of the beach. From the sea, they had seen a steadily rising slope, leading to some moderate crests a few miles inland. Where he stood now, he could see only the trees before him, since their height concealed the rising ground beyond.

Martine exclaimed over this blossom or that brilliantly plumed bird, while the horseman wondered what lay beyond that jungle facade. What was this place really like?

"We'd better not go too far," he cautioned, realizing they had walked past the last group of men on the beach.

"Oh, stop worrying! I'd like to be someplace for once where there aren't hundreds of sweaty men around me!"

"But…" Halloran paused in total confusion. He would do anything to please her, and indeed her desires coincided deeply with his own. But the Bishou's dour and protective nature was well known, and Domincus could scarcely fail to observe their departure. Hal shuddered at the thought of his wrath.

A thunderous explosion of sound blasted from the jungle, striking them like a blast of air and driving Halloran to his knees. Like the roar of a great cat, amplified to an earth-shattering level, the bellow was strong enough, and startling enough, to knock Martine flat onto her back behind Hal. In an instant, he staggered to his feet, his sword drawn.

A creature of nightmarish appearance leaped from the jungle, pouncing to the sand ten paces before the man. Halloran saw a great black mane surrounding a feline face contorted by a hateful snarl. A pair of leathery wings flapped from the creature's shoulders, sending clouds of sand swirling into the air. A black-tufted tail lashed back and forth as the beast, larger than a horse, crouched, preparing to spring.

Martine's lips moved, but she lay immobile on the sand. She may have spoken, but Hal realized that he could hear nothing. The roar had deafened him.

Halloran stumbled unsteadily, lurching to Martine's side, crouching defensively to protect her from Ihe cruel jaws and raking talons. The monsler leaped, and Halloran brought his sword down in an overhand blow, striking the thing's brutish forehead.

He felt claws tear into his rib cage at the same time as his blade contacted hard bone. Hal fell backward, still in front of Martine, while the crealure uttered a short, surprised screech, stopping in its tracks and shaking its head.